


In Transition

by Allemande



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Addiction, Conspiracy, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Politics, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:06:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the war, with Cardassia under military rule and close to civil war, Ezri Dax discovers a direct trans-spatial portal that links Bajor and Cardassia. Julian is very interested indeed - and finds out more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I - Looking for connections. 1

When Ezri Dax first saw the portal, she thought she was hallucinating.  
  
What with seeing her brother Janel, who was there negotiating some contract for the family company (lots of awkwardness and drinking) and then running into old friends from the _Destiny_ (less awkwardness, more drinking), it had been one of her stranger visits to Bajor.  
  
Not to mention the ill-advised stroll down to the beach by herself after she’d missed the 1900 hours shuttle back to DS9.  
  
So there she was, enjoying the view of the water sparkling under the two largest moons, trying not to think of Janel and the rest of her family, when suddenly she became aware of voices to her left.  
  
Before she could even think about whether to grant these other beach visitors some privacy, she realized they were speaking Cardassian – and what they were saying made no sense at all.  
  
_“You dare to talk like this while standing on the very soil of our beloved homeworld?”_ – was what she thought she heard. _“You dare besmirch the name of Cardassia and of all who belong to her? You are nothing but a –”_ Here, the universal translator gave up.  
  
Ezri frowned and started walking towards the opening in the cliff that the voices seemed to come from. As she approached, the conversation turned into shouting.  
  
_“You are blinded by unconditional loyalty to our erstwhile leaders! We must be reborn and become something new!”_  
  
Ezri had entered the cave and was walking towards a shining light at the end of a narrow corridor.  
  
_“Preposterous! This is Cardassia Prime! We do not question our race! We are who we are!”_  
  
At the end of the corridor, she turned left.  
  
Two Cardassians in civil clothing, a man and a woman, were facing each other, barely six inches apart, shouting their heads off. They were standing in a small pavilion, which was located in a pretty, if slightly overgrown garden.  
  
All of this, Ezri saw through a kind of wavy liquid window, about seven feet high and fifteen feet wide.  
  
She shook her head slowly. Julian _had_ warned her that Bajoran springwine had a much stronger effect on Trills.  
  
Backing away, she tripped over a rock and fell over, making a lot of noise in the process. Conveniently, she had done so while the Cardassians simultaneously drew breath before the next shouting match, and as she looked up, she was convinced they would be staring back at her.  
  
They hadn’t heard, however, and were already back to yelling at each other.  
  
“Hello?” she tried. “Can you hear me?”  
  
They didn’t, even when she shouted louder than them.  
  
“Silly Ezri,” she said aloud, and giggled at how slurred her speech was. “Hallucinations can’t hear you, you know.”  
  
And when the large wavy mirror in front of her finally dissolved, but not before briefly turning into three very discernible words written in old Trill script, Ezri was sure that she was just very, very drunk.  
  
_HELLO OLD MAN._  
  


* * *

 


	2. Part I - Looking for connections. 2

Many light years away, Elim Garak was also very, very drunk, but in no doubt about it and not entirely unhappy about it either.  
  
“The Phoenix metaphor,” Bojun (the stupid idealist) was saying. “It fits us perfectly, I swear.”  
  
“It’s also a _human_ metaphor, Bojun,” insisted Harila (the only sensible member of their group, Garak sometimes thought – and yes, that was including him). “However much our followers may turn towards the human race for guidance these days, they will never identify with a human metaphor.”  
  
“Never mind our followers, what about the rest of Cardassia?” Gopar, the ever-critical scholar who, unfortunately, kept repeating one single argument. “We cannot content ourselves with just pleasing our followers, we must aim to unite the whole –”  
  
“Gopar, we can’t even unite our _group_ ,” said Harila, exasperatedly. “And we’ve driven the only person who _could_ to despair. And drink.” She stared at Garak pointedly.  
  
He blinked. “Me? You must be joking, my dear.”  
  
“Garak, with your experience –”  
  
“We’ve been down this road before, Harila,” protested Bojun. “His experience, what about his past?”  
  
“Yes, what about my past, Harila?” Garak only barely held back a giggle. “Aren’t you worried that once I _unite the group_ ,” he took care to drench these words in the deepest irony he was still capable of, “I will revert back to my old ways and start _torturing_ you all?” He did giggle a little then.  
  
“Garak – ”  
  
“No more of that, my dear. I am no more a born leader than Zoran is.” He grimaced. “And now I have managed to depress myself.”  
  
“Zoran,” spat Bojun. “As if a _farmer’s daughter_ could lead us out of the dark times.”  
  
And as, for once, everyone nodded in agreement, Garak buried his head in his hands.  


* * *

 


	3. Part I - Looking for connections. 3

At staff meeting the next morning, Ezri (trying not to look at Julian, who had administered a massive hangover remedy only an hour before and kept grinning whenever he caught her eye) was trying to remember last night’s bizarre dream.  
  
“All in all, my informant is not too optimistic,” Commander Forster was saying. “The state of things on Cardassia seems to be even more chaotic than only last week. She says that if some of the factions don’t come to an agreement soon, this could go as far as –”  
  
“Civil war,” Kira sighed. “What we need right now.”  
  
Ezri frowned. Factions. Cardassians yelling at each other. What the – “Oh!” she said. Apparently out loud.  
  
Later that evening, when she told Julian about the bits that she remembered, he insisted on taking her straight to the infirmary to scan her.  
  
“I’ve never heard of springwine causing hallucinations, not even in Trills,” he said as he steered her through the door by her elbow. (She’d decided not to protest at being manhandled like this: he was obviously very concerned.) “Still, if it _was_ a hallucination…” He’d finished scanning her and frowned. “I can’t find any evidence of that, though. Can you tell me how much springwine you drank?”  
  
“Um.” She squinted at him, and he dropped his professional manner, grinning. “That kind of day, huh.”  
  
“Well, it was really difficult seeing Janel.” She shrugged. “And then I ran into Georgie and Farid from the _Destiny_ , and…”  
  
“Say no more.” Julian winked. “Still, though –” He studied his screen again. “I can still find some traces of intoxication – which, by the way, means that you must have been very drunk, congrats. That explains the temporary memory loss. But nothing to suggest any sort of hallucinatory or delusional experience. Which _means_ that we should go to Kira and report what you saw.” He suddenly looked rather excited.  
  
“I guess.” She still wasn’t sure it _had_ been real, and she hoped Kira wouldn’t question her sanity.  
  
The Colonel was still on Ops, of course, even though it was close to 2300 hours and she’d been there since 6. She seemed to do nothing but work these days.  
  
To Ezri’s relief, Kira didn’t question Julian’s suggestion that what Ezri had seen might have been real, and seemed intrigued. She scheduled a reconnaissance trip for the next day, for which Julian volunteered.  


* * *

  
_Civil war, they whisper._  
  
_Yes, he answers sadly as he watches it unfold._  
  
_Why do they terminate each other’s existence? You said humanoids strived to better themselves. To learn from each other._  
  
_Sometimes they forget that. If their suffering is too great – their homeworld has been all but destroyed, they’re all hungry… never underestimate the importance of food._  
  
_This urge to destroy whenever their most primal needs are not fulfilled…_  
  
_For a moment, he is very worried that this is the end. But then,_ she _whispers something which makes him smile._  
  
_If we did not know you well enough, my son, we would think this primitive behaviour was all there is._  


* * *

 


	4. Part I - Looking for connections. 4

Garak, without the knowledge of Harila and the others, had asked to meet Zoran to talk through their differences and try to come to some agreement. To his great surprise, she had agreed almost at once.  
  
To his even greater surprise, he managed to show up, on time to boot.  
  
When they had been discussing their respective groups’ points of view and interpretations of the war for an hour, Zoran paused and leaned back, studying him.  
  
“Funny,” she said. “You talk perfect sense, and you seem to genuinely believe everything you say. And yet, I still do not trust you.”  
  
“It is my amiable manner,” Garak suggested. “Everyone automatically assumes I have an ulterior motive every time I smile at them.”  
  
The corner of her mouth lifted. “And do you?”  
  
“Only to help us leave these dark times and rebuild our great civilization.” He paused. “Or at least some echo of it.”  
  
“Then we are on the same side.” She glanced down at her notes. Where she had managed to find blank paper was anyone’s guess. Her house, the cellar of which was their current meeting place, certainly didn’t look untouched by the final bombardments.  
  
“Do you think,” she said as she looked up again, “that you could convince your people to join with mine?”  
  
“Ah.” Garak sighed. “That may, I fear, be a little more complicated.”  
  
“Tell me,” she said, and now there was definitely a smile on her lips, albeit a cynical one. “Is it my family’s humble origins or my uncle’s actions in the war which most inform their opinion of me?”  
  
Ah, but she was clever. Garak held her gaze, smiling. “A combination of both, I would wager.”  
  
“Pity.” She shrugged. “People are easier to win over when I’m just dealing with one prejudice at a time.”  
  


* * *

 


	5. Part I - Looking for connections. 5

When Julian Bashir first saw the portal, he felt more excited than he had in a long time.  
  
He, Ezri and Lieutenant T’Nara had been in the cave for hours. T’Nara had found indications of a spatial disturbance which seemed to be getting stronger as the time progressed, and had suggested they wait until the hour when Ezri had seen the anomaly.  
  
So they waited.  
  
With every passing minute, Julian’s excitement grew. If they could see what was going on on Cardassia, maybe even find a way to communicate…! What with the temporary military rule having drawn a no-go zone around Cardassia (officially, there had been a request to Starfleet to let them sort out their problems themselves), the only information they had these days was from Colonel Forster’s contact, and there was no way they could conceivably ask this contact about specific people.  
  
Julian frowned. He felt guilty for making Garak his personal priority instead of worrying about the state of things on Cardassia on the whole. But even Ezri had said last night that they should try and find out how he was.  
  
Julian had been surprised to hear it at first. But after helping him with his claustrophobia, Ezri had struck up a somewhat unlikely friendship with Garak, even occasionally meeting him for lunch or drinks.  
  
Ezri and Garak being friends had always felt odd.  
  
“The game is afoot,” T’Nara announced, looking at her scanner, and Julian smiled. A Vulcan with a penchant for Shakespeare: stranger people had come to DS9.  
  
The lieutenant’s scanner beeped even more insistently, and now he could see it: A sort of white mist was forming and densifying rapidly, until finally it cleared into the mirror-like phenomenon Ezri had described.  
  
Behind the mirror, two men were standing in the pavilion Ezri had also spoken of. Julian didn’t like the look of them: they looked like plotters.  
  
“Are you sure she met with _him_ specifically?” The taller man was saying. (Ezri pointed, whispering, “He was there last time, too! I think.”)  
  
“No doubt about it,” the other man replied, looking furtively around him, although they were quite alone. Julian’s impression of some sort of scheming encounter intensified. “I listened to the recording myself. There’s no mistaking that voice.”  
  
“And they were talking about uniting forces,” the tall man said. He didn’t sound at all happy about this.  
  
“Yes, Gul.”  
  
The Gul started pacing up and down. “This is dangerous for us, Topal, although they may not even realize it. I talked to her yesterday; she is naïve and idealistic, but there is no denying that she is a resourceful woman. And we know what _he_ is capable of, of course. We must be swift.”  
  
Topal nodded. He looked ready to do anything he was ordered to do. “How do you wish me to proceed, Gul?”  
  
“Eliminate them.” The Gul held up a warning hand. “But be discreet about it.”  
  
“Of course, Gul.” Topal looked offended. “I can make it look like they eliminated each other.”  
  
“Good.” The tall man smiled unpleasantly. “Velika Zoran and Elim Garak, killing each other over unsurmountable differences. _That_ will put an end to the pro-Starfleet movement once and for all.”  
  
Julian was aware that Ezri was staring at him, but he kept his eyes glued to the Cardassians, feeling like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.  


 

* * *

**End of Part One**

* * *

 


	6. Part II - At close quarters. 1

Garak was dimly aware of someone knocking at the door.  
  
It took about ten minutes and a rather annoying increase in knocking frequency and loudness for him to get up from his worn mattress and find the door.  
  
Harila stood outside, looking briefly relieved as he opened the door. Then she saw the state of him.  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Garak,” she sighed.  
  
She waited in what had once been his sitting-room while he cleaned himself up. When he came back into the room, she was reading his copy of Iloja’s teenage poems.  
  
“I like the later ones better.” He settled himself gingerly into a chair, wincing at the massive headache announcing itself.  
  
“Zoran has been kidnapped,” Harila announced without further preamble.  
  
“What?!”  
  
She put the book aside. “Actually, they’re saying she’s dead. But so far she hasn’t been found.”  
  
“And what do the Guls say?”  
  
Harila smiled disdainfully. “That they know nothing about it, of course.”  
  
“Fuck.” He frowned, then stopped because it made his head hurt more. “How are her disciples reacting?”  
  
“They’re talking about widespread demonstrations. And attacking the military’s headquarters if they don’t get answers.”  
  
“ _Fuck._ ” He was sure he hadn’t used to be so vulgar.  
  
“We have to do something.” Harila got up and started pacing. “Not that I’m a massive fan of hers, but it turns out she’s more influential than we thought. And if her group doesn’t get answers soon…”  
  
“Right.” Garak, getting up, cleared his console the worst of the debris and turned it on. “I’ll try to tap into the military surveillance. You ask around. Any of your semi-military contacts. Meet me here again tonight.”  
  
Harila nodded, evidently pleased that he wasn’t doing as badly as she’d thought.  
  
He was, of course. But he also knew how to pull himself together (or what was left of him) when it mattered.  
  


* * *

  
  



	7. Part II - At close quarters. 2

“Where am I?”  
  
“Don’t try to speak.”  
  
The human man passed what looked like a medical tricorder over her. He didn’t look pleased.  
  
“Tell me –” She tried to sit up.  
  
“Shh.” He put a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder, holding her down. “You’ve suffered multiple internal injuries. I’ve done my best to patch you up but you need to rest.”  
  
She frowned, and must have looked mutinous, because he smiled. “We’re in a cellar in what looks like an abandoned house. I took you here after I found you.” He had finished his scan, and now started to administer several hyposprays.  
  
She was too weak to protest. “Where…” she attempted instead.  
  
“We’re still in the capital.”  
  
“How did you find me?”  
  
“Oh, now that’s a bit of a long story.”  
  
“What… what happened?” A brief memory of coming to the meeting place as planned the day before and finding herself alone. Then suddenly, a brief, violent fight with a man she had never seen before, and then the blackout.  
  
“He set me up,” she groaned.  
  
“Who did?” The human looked at her intently then, remedies forgotten.  
  
“Garak,” she growled.  


* * *

  
_She is alive and they are both alive and this human man Bashir is on Cardassia and the Cardassian man Garak is alive._  
  
_They are alive_ because _Bashir is on Cardassia._  
  
_Explain ‘because’._  
  
_It’s linear. Look – here. Bashir sees someone planning to kill Garak. That is one point in linear time. Then look here. He goes through the portal and saves Leader Zoran._  
  
_She is not Leader… yet… at this point in time._  
  
_Yes! You got it, well done! – And here’s a timeline that doesn’t happen: The Cardassian man called Topal kills Zoran and then Garak,_ because _Bashir never comes to Cardassia, and civil war breaks out because Zoran and Garak are dead. Cause and effect._  
  
_And this portal? Is it here_ because _Bashir needs to go to Cardassia? Or does he need to go to Cardassia_ because _it is here?_  
  
_I have no idea. You tell me._

 

* * *

  



	8. Part II - At close quarters. 3

Gul Ghalil was not a patient man. These days, less than usual. Topal, his most trusted man, hadn’t reported back in twenty hours, and Ghalil was torn between worrying about him and looking forward to ripping his head off when he finally did show.  
  
One thing was for certain: Topal had wounded or killed Zoran, because her supporters didn’t know where she was, which was apparent from the masses of people now camping on the square in front of the headquarters. Zoran was enough of a politician not to let things get this far.  
  
(Or was she capable of staging her own disappearance to uproot the military government?)  
  
And what had happened to Garak? No word from their contact in that particular cell. Although as Ghalil remembered well, Tain’s son tended to disappear on a regular basis and was rather good at not being found. So perhaps Topal had finished him off as well; perhaps not.  
  
Either way, this was not going like they had planned at all.  
  


* * *

  
Julian, having done all he could for his patient for the time being, was trying to restore some semblance of order in the abandoned cellar while Zoran slept.  
  
Serendipity, or perhaps his instinct, had seen to it that they had landed in a doctor’s house, so he had ample supplies. There was even a box full of vials of magrodel, a concentrate of an important Cardassian enzyme, which came in very handy as Zoran appeared to be suffering from chronic magrodel hypofunction.  
  
All in all, Julian and his patient had been rather lucky. Now if only he could find some sort of access point so he could search for Garak.  
  
Julian started clearing one of the more chaotic corners of debris and old files. Was it possible that Garak had indeed betrayed Zoran? Julian had seen and heard the two members of the military conspiring against Zoran _and_ Garak; but that had been 24 hours ago. Had Garak, in the meantime, been in contact with the man ordered to terminate him, and negotiated some sort of deal to save his own skin? He was capable of it, of course.  
  
Aha! Here was the access point he’d been looking for – hidden behind the largest shelf stacked with bandages and empty hyposprays. After a good half an hour’s work, he was finally able to move the shelf, creating enough space for himself to squeeze through, and access the terminal.  
  
His thoughts turned back to Garak while he worked on cracking the former owner’s access codes. One good thing that had come from hearing the two conspirators talking about his old friend was finding out that he was still alive, something which, he now realized, had been gnawing at him for quite some time now. So Garak was alive, or at least he had been 24 hours ago. And he was in some sort of opposition to the temporary military government, which from what Julian had heard about the latter wasn’t bad news either.  
  
Of course, being against the bad guys didn’t automatically make you a good guy.  
  
He frowned as he came up against another block. These Cardassians were so bloody intent on their privacy. Cracking a private doctor’s code was proving almost as hard as breaking through the walls Garak had built around himself.  
  


* * *

  
On the other side of the city, across the river, Garak was nursing what had now turned into a full-blown hangover. It didn’t help that both Harila and Bojun were now sending him regular updates of the demonstrations in all the major cities.  
  
He groaned as his console beeped twice. The sound seemed to bore into the very centre of his brain. He looked up, squinting.  
  
Now _that_ was interesting.  
  


* * *

 


	9. Part II - At close quarters. 4

Ezri was trying to concentrate on this afternoon’s only patient, which was proving very hard, not only due to the fact that the man talked in a low drone and kept repeating himself.  
  
“And how does it make you feel when Ensign Riley says things like that to you?” she asked, trying not to concentrate on the image, so clearly imprinted onto her mind, of Julian disappearing through the portal to Cardassia.  
  
_Why haven’t we heard from him yet?_  
  
It wasn’t that surprising, of course. The only contact they had on Cardassia was a woman who called Commander Forster once a week, and not even every week if she couldn’t make it. Forster had sent her a message asking for urgent contact, but so far had had no reply. And even if she did get back to them, who was to know that she had any information on Garak or Julian?  
  
Ezri nodded, ummed and ahhed whenever her patient paused in his monologue, trying not to think about what putting those two names next to each other meant now.  
  


* * *

  
“How am I doing, Doctor?” Zoran was sitting up, feeling much better. The human doctor, who had introduced himself as Bashir, was feeding her some broth. Apparently, he had managed to get the upstairs replicator  to work. It even looked like that access point in the corner was working. Was this man a secret service agent? she wondered, not for the first time.  
  
He was definitely a doctor, though, proven by the fact that she was neither dead nor in hypo-magrodel shock.  
  
“You are doing better,” Bashir smiled. “Although I think we shouldn’t move you for some time yet.”  
  
“Define ‘some time’?”  
  
“Twelve hours?” he shrugged. “Hard to say. You suffered several internal injuries –”  
  
“Which you healed,” she said, inclining her head towards him in gratitude.  
  
“Yes, but your entire chemical balance was turned upside down. It’s not just the magrodel hypofunction – which, by the way, I assume is genetic?”  
  
“Runs in the family,” she nodded, warily.  
  
“Thought so. You also lost a lot of blood, though, and your glycose levels are extremely low. Frankly, I don’t think you could walk ten feet right now.”  
  
“Fine.” She sighed, deliberating. She needed to get out a message to her group that she was alive. But was enlisting Doctor Bashir’s help a wise move? What if he revealed their position to the military government, and/or the man who had tried to kill her?  
  
“Is there anyone you’d like me to contact?” Bashir asked, seeming to read her mind. “I’ve got the access point working.”  
  
As she was still wondering how to respond, Bashir suddenly looked up towards the ceiling and put a finger to his lips. He moved swiftly – expertly – she was becoming more and more convinced that this was a trained professional – towards the staircase, drawing a phaser and taking up position between her and the door.  
  
The door opened, and a man came slowly, quietly, down the stairs.  
  
“ _You_ ,” Zoran growled, before she could stop herself.  
  
Garak, however, was staring at Doctor Bashir.  
  


* * *

 


	10. Part II - At close quarters. 5

Topal looked up at the abandoned building. This had been Doctor Banred’s surgery. Images of coming here with his mother and younger brothers came floating unbidden into his mind. Doctor Banred had been an elderly gentleman, slightly hard of hearing, slightly bad-smelling, but always very kind to them, especially when Topal’s mother had been diagnosed with Pottrik Syndrome.  
  
He shook his head, chasing away the unwanted memories. He had a mission. No time for reminiscing. Time to follow the man he’d been trying to track down for the last twelve hours: the second part of the assignment he’d been given.  
  
Topal wasn’t one to return to his commanding officer before he hadn’t fulfilled his mission.  
  


* * *

  
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Garak said, and Julian was unnerved to see his old friend revert easily to that genial smile of his, even though he looked terrible.  
  
Made you wonder how much of that smile had ever been real.  
  
“Garak,” he managed to say.  
  
“You _know_ each other,” said Zoran, behind him. Her tone had changed completely. Julian turned around. She had drawn a phaser of her own – he had no idea where she’d been hiding it – and was pointing it at both of them.  
  
“Ah,” said Garak, still smiling. “I think there may have been a few misunderstandings.”  
  
“Oh, quite,” she said. She was most decidedly not smiling. “One of them being that I thought I could maybe trust you after all.”  
  
“Zoran,” he said, holding up his hands, “I had nothing to do with the attack on you.”  
  
“Oh no? We meet at a place you suggest, you fail to turn up and I get attacked by some military minion? Very convenient.”  
  
“Well, I do agree, that looks bad,” Garak began, taking one step closer.  
  
“Don’t you come anywhere near me,” she said, raising her phaser ever so slightly. “That goes for you too, _Doctor_.”  
  
Julian, who was watching the exchange with reluctant fascination, could not help but marvel at Zoran’s courage. There she was, clearly believing they had conspired against her, in which case she had absolutely no chance of fighting or outrunning them in her present condition. And still, she spoke to them as though she had the upper hand.  
  
“Zoran,” Garak began again, “I –”  
  
“Shh!” Julian raised a hand, silencing him. There it was again – faint sounds of movement upstairs. He suddenly realized that the two Cardassians down here might not have heard it, as their hearing was distinctly inferior to that of humans.  
  
He motioned for Garak to step away from the door, which the other man did swiftly. They both raised their weapons and pointed them at the door.  
  
What happened next was over in a few seconds. A man in military uniform came running down the stairs, saw the three of them facing him, hesitated for a fraction of a second, clearly uncertain whom to shoot first, then aimed at Garak, but was shot down by both Garak and Julian before he had the chance to fire.  
  
“That was the man who attacked me,” said Zoran as Julian checked his vitals. Just stunned.  
  
“I think he must have followed me here,” said Garak in a low voice. Julian looked up. The Cardassian, in a rare display of open emotion, looked furious with himself.  
  
“Do you think there’s more coming?” he asked.  
  
Garak frowned down at the man. “I’m not sure.”  
  
“I saw him talking to one other man, a Gul,” Julian said. “They were planning to attack the two of you.”  
  
“You saw him? What do you mean?” Garak looked genuinely confused.  
  
“Long story.”  
  
As Garak looked at her questioningly, Zoran only shrugged.  
  


* * *

  
  



	11. Part II - At close quarters. 6

“I have news from my contact about Doctor Bashir,” Commander Forster announced without preamble when they had all assembled in Kira’s office.  
  
“That was quick.” Kira glanced at Ezri, who looked hopeful, though tense.  
  
“It looks like he managed to avert the attack and is now in a safe location, with Garak and the other person who was in danger, Zoran. She was wounded but is on the mend, thanks to Doctor Bashir. My contact also tells me that there has been a great popular movement in her favour ever since she went missing and that the majority of people are saying that the military government tried to eliminate her.”  
  
“So Julian got himself caught right in the middle of the Cardassian revolution,” Kira said, shaking her head. “Commander, if you agree, I would suggest that we keep this quiet for now. Doctor Bashir didn’t exactly ask for Starfleet’s permission before he went through that portal, let alone before he saved the life of what looks like one of the most important figures of the new Cardassian movement.”  
  
Forster nodded. “Agreed, Colonel.” He paused. “Although if we _can_ get a hold of Doctor Bashir, we should remind him that he really needs to keep his nose out of it.”  
  
Kira nodded, glancing briefly at Ezri again before turning back to Forster. “Perhaps you could ask your contact if she can arrange for us to speak to him, or at least get a message to him.”

* * *

  
_The man they still call Gul... why is he so intent on harming the others? He has nothing to gain from it, he must see that._  
  
_He doesn’t. He’s obsessed, that usually doesn’t help with rational thinking. … What’s this here? Ghalil and Garak working together – oh, this must be during the Occupation._  
  
_Yes, this is… before… you came to us._  
  
_They were in the Obsidian Order together. And so was Peltor Zoran, Velika Zoran’s uncle. Well, that makes sense._  
  
_It does?_  
  
_It’s personal._

* * *

  
“So let me get this straight,” Zoran said, massaging her shoulders, which were tense after she had been half-dragged across town by Garak and Bashir, her arms awkwardly draped around their shoulders while she tried to keep her phaser in one hand.  
  
“You,” she pointed at Bashir, “saw two men from the military, the one we saw and another one, talking about eliminating the two of us.” She pointed at Garak and herself. “You saw this through some sort of portal which connects a garden here on Cardassia and a cave on Bajor. And you stepped through this portal in order to save us. To save Garak,” she corrected herself, seeing the two men exchange a glance.  
  
“Sounds pretty unlikely, I know,” Bashir said. “But yes, I was on Bajor twenty-four hours ago and came through the portal a few hours ago.”  
  
“How did you know it was safe to pass through?” Garak asked, in a quiet voice that Zoran hadn’t heard from him before.  
  
“Um,” Bashir said. “We ran a few tests.”  
  
Zoran wasn’t at all sure that a few tests were enough to know that a spatial portal was safe for a humanoid to pass through. Garak seemed to have similar thoughts as he studied the doctor.  
  
There was a knock on the door, with an elaborate rhythm that Garak seemed to recognize, as he went to open and the woman they had seen when they’d arrived stepped in.  
  
“I passed your message to your group,” she nodded at Zoran. “They’re starting to spread the news among all the protesters now. I can’t guarantee it’ll calm them down, though.” She shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure there is much that can, at this point.”  
  
Zoran shrugged. “Maybe it’s time we had some change.” She nodded at the woman in thanks.  
  
“Thank you, Harila,” Garak said. “Did you manage to find any food?”  
  
“I found a few supplies.” She spread them out on the table. Zoran, who was famished, was annoyed to see Doctor Bashir scanning them. Did it really matter at this point?  
  
A mostly germ-free meal later, Harila left for home and Zoran went to bed, leaving Bashir and Garak sitting in the darkened room, looking at each other.

 

 

* * *

  **End of Part Two**

* * *

 


	12. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 1

“What news from Cardassia, Commander?” asked Kira.  
  
Ezri, who was trying not to look at Julian, still saw the sudden tension in his shoulders as he turned to Commander Forster.  
  
“Well, it’s a lot better than this time two months ago, anyway,” said Forster in his typical acerbic tone. “Looks like the new government is making good progress on the rebuilding front and also concerning social welfare for the invalids and the orphans. They’re still really popular, as well, although the group around Ghalil looks like it’s gaining in strength. I don’t think they’re a real threat to the Leader, though.”  
  
He turned to Julian, who – Ezri now saw – had schooled his expression into one of attentive indifference. “Although apparently,” Forster continued, “he’s now claiming that Zoran received help from an outsider – and he insinuates Starfleet when he says that – in order to get elected.”  
  
Kira smiled. “Well, not getting killed does help.”  
  
Julian shrugged. “Ghalil’s just clutching at straws. There’s no way he knows that I was involved in foiling his attempt on her life. The only one who witnessed that is dead.”  
  
“Yes, killed in an ‘accident’, I remember,” Forster said, raising his eyebrows. “One of Ghalil’s most trusted advisors. Any idea what happened there?”  
  
Julian shrugged again. “We are talking about Cardassia, Commander. Dissidents aren’t dealt with in the same way as in Starfleet.”  
  
It was really very convincing, thought Ezri, now openly studying him. He was projecting an aura of perfect detachment, suggesting that he didn’t care whether the new government had, or had not, removed the man called Topal who had tried to kill Zoran and Garak.  
  
Only when he caught her eye did he drop his mask for a second.  
  


* * *

  
“So what do you really think?”  
  
The other members of the cabinet had left Leader Zoran’s office, leaving her alone with Garak.  
  
Garak smiled. “I don’t know why you are constantly accusing me of hiding my true opinion.”  
  
“I am only accusing you, if that is the right word, of being a dyed-in-the-wool, non-committal diplomat.” Zoran smiled back. “Fortunately, you do usually express an opinion when we are alone.”  
  
Garak, sighing, got up and walked to the window. “I think Ghalil could become dangerous for us if we are not careful.” He turned back to the Leader. “I do not think that his conspiracy theory about Starfleet helping you to get elected will resonate with many people. Or if it does, your supporters are not likely to get too indignant about that, not in this new pro-Starfleet Cardassia.”  
  
Zoran, hearing his wry tone, looked at him quizzically. “I would have thought you of all people would welcome Cardassia opening her borders, and her mind.”  
  
“Not at all costs,” Garak said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Turning to other peoples in every single area, including the economy, _culture_ … it is becoming almost obscene.”  
  
The Leader nodded slowly. “Yes, we must preserve our identity. But I don’t think there’s any danger of losing it entirely. We are too proud a people for that.”  
  
“And rightly so.” Garak gave a little bow. For a moment, he almost looked content.  
  
Zoran hadn’t seen him like that for nearly two months.  
  


* * *

 


	13. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 2

It was a lucky coincidence that Benjamin Sisko came back to linear time during a DS9 staff meeting.  
  
As a matter of fact, considering all the billions of times and places he could have ended up in, Ben felt like it was a coincidence he was even on DS9 at all, and in what appeared to be a reasonable timeframe.  
  
Although nothing was ever _really_ a coincidence when it came to the Prophets.  
  
He looked around at the staring faces, smiling.  
  
“Captain?” Kira finally addressed him, cautiously.  
  
“Is it?” Ben asked, tilting his head to the side, realizing belatedly that that was probably not the reply she’d expected. “I mean, the rank. Am I?”  
  
Kira frowned and turned to Bashir. “Julian…”  
  
The doctor stepped forward hesitatingly. “I – er – am going to scan you to make sure you’re you,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”  
  
“That’s fine with me, Doctor.” Ben smiled what he hoped was his most disarming smile. “Still here then, I see.”  
  
“Um… yes.” Bashir frowned down at his tricorder, then looked up. “Where else would I be?”  
  
Ben shook his head. “Sorry. Should hold my tongue. Difficult to know what to say and what not to.” He turned to Dax, who was looking at him quizzically, and grinned. “Hello old man.”  
  
As comprehension dawned on her face, Bashir turned to Kira. “He’s Captain Sisko all right.”  
  
“Well, in that case… welcome back,” Kira said. Her smile was a little tense. He knew the feeling.  
  


* * *

  
“A meeting of Cardassian, Bajoran and Earth government officials on Terok Nor, initiated by the so-called Emissary of the Prophets,” said the minion in one breath, standing to attention in front of Gul Ghalil.  
  
(He was not Gul anymore, of course. But his supporters still called him that.)  
  
“Interesting,” said Ghalil. “Sounds like a good place to stir up some trouble.”  
  
The minion, who knew he was being called on to smile conspiratorially, did so.  
  
“What better occasion to show them what we really think of those assimilated, grovelling animals who call themselves our leaders,” Ghalil spat.  
  
This time, the minion had no trouble figuring out the right reaction, and nodded emphatically.  
  


* * *

  
“Garak, I demand you come with me. It is absolutely out of the question that you stay on Cardassia while we go to Deep Space Nine.” Zoran thought she might have hit on the right authoritative tone this time, as even Garak (who often seemed untouchable) flinched and ducked his head.  
  
“Yes, Leader.”  
  
She laid a hand on his arm, something she rarely allowed herself, even with him. “If you like, I can schedule an inordinate amount of meetings so you don’t have any occasion at all for… social calls.”  
  
He looked up out of narrowed eyes, then gave a small smile.  
  
“Thank you, Zoran, but that won’t be necessary.”  
  


* * *

 


	14. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 3

“So I did send you that message,” Ben said, strolling along the Promenade, Dax’s hand tucked into his arm, both trying to ignore the cluster of Bajorans who now inevitably followed him everywhere he went. “I thought I’d dreamed it.”  
  
“So you dreamed, wherever you were?” she asked, looking up at him.  
  
He shrugged. “Difficult to say. But then, everything is right now.” He grinned. “I love the fact that we both thought we’d dreamed it, though. Me, because I was with the Prophets. You, because you were drunk as a skunk.”  
  
“Well, be fair,” she protested, although she smiled, too. “I discover this weird portal between Bajor and Cardassia and as it fades away the mist spells out the words ‘Hello old man’. What else was I supposed to think?”  
  
“Fair point,” he shrugged.  
  
“Have you talked to Kasidy, by the way?”  
  
“Yes, Counselor.” He winked. “I contacted her before I came here. I really wanted to come back to her first but this Bajor-Cardassia thing is really urgent. So she’s coming here on Tuesday with Jake and Ted.”  
  
“Ooh, baby!” Ezri exclaimed, smiling.  
  
Was it him, or did her smile look a little unused? Well, no wonder considering the Bashir thing. She wasn’t stupid, after all. Or maybe they weren’t even together anymore. He couldn’t remember the linearity of it.  
  
“So the Cardassia-Bajor situation is urgent?” Ezri asked, lowering her voice.  
  
“Well from where I was, Cardassia looked close to imploding.” He frowned. “Actually, I _saw_ it imploding a number of times. But I guess those were just alternate timelines.”  
  
“And Bajor?”  
  
He smiled down at her. Just like he’d thought – Dax was probably the only person he would ever feel comfortable discussing this with. Apart from Kas, of course, with whom he would discuss this in detail as soon as they saw each other again.  
  
As soon as… damn, this linear time thing was _slow_.  
  
“Bajor is linked to Cardassia no matter what,” he said in an undertone, “and would suffer greatly should Cardassia fall into the abyss.”  
  
Dax grinned up at him. “Listen to you. You’re starting to sound like a Prophet yourself.”  
  
As the nearest Bajoran, having overheard what she’d said, ran off to tell his friends about her blasphemous remarks, Ben and Ezri couldn’t help giggling.  
  


* * *

  
“Well, here they come,” said Kira quietly.  
  
Julian, standing at the dock next to Sisko, Kira and Forster, was pretty sure he’d adopted a perfectly neutral expression which did not at all betray his nerves.  
  
(His nerves which were so bad that for a second or two, he had an out-of-body experience where he saw himself standing there and thought ‘phew, I do look absolutely unconcerned by anything’.  
  
Weird.)  
  
His mask held up even under Cardassian scrutiny as he shook Leader Zoran’s, then First Minister Garak’s hand. He was secretly pleased to see that Garak looked a tiny bit unnerved by this, and even Zoran seemed to be eyeing them with concern.  
  
Blimey. At least Ezri wasn’t here; he wasn’t sure he would have been able to bear _her_ probing looks as well.  
  


* * *

  
The starship moved along swiftly, silently.  
  
Ghalil checked their cloaking device for the umpteenth time. It had not been easy at the time, stealing it before the Dominion left Cardassia. And he couldn’t have done it without Peltor’s help.  
  
He stared out at the stars. Peltor. Topal. They would pay for all the good men he had lost.  
  


* * *

  
  



	15. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 4

Bashir had met his gaze unblinkingly, neutrally.  
  
Garak wasn’t fooled.  
  
There was no way this human man, scratch that, any human man, scratch that too, _anyone_ could change this much in only two months. Julian Bashir had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Well, all right, he’d become a little less silly, a little more cynical after the story about his genetic enhancements had come out. But he’d still been incredibly easy to read. Perhaps even more so.  
  
He was putting on this front, this mirage of not being emotionally attained by their meeting again, but it could not be true.  
  
Could it?  
  


* * *

  
It had been a strenuous day, what with everyone eyeing him warily (or was that just his imagination? Forster had definitely given him a few probing looks, and the Cardassians were of course experts in that), Ezri avoiding his gaze, and Garak – Garak… avoiding him entirely.  
  
It was surely the only explanation for Julian having forgotten the scheduled medical check of the Cardassian delegation.  
  
Starfleet Medical had issued a ‘strong recommendation’ that he do a full check on them – either to make sure they hadn’t brought any viruses to the station, or out of genuine concern for the well-being of the new Cardassian government.  
  
Garak didn’t turn up, to Julian’s initial relief, until Leader Zoran became aware of this at the end of everyone’s check-up and asked their aide Harila to fetch him.  
  
As everyone left the infirmary and he was left alone with Garak, sitting on one of the beds and giving him a tense half-smile, Julian wondered not for the first time how much of his life was up to him and how much was pre-ordained.  
  
“How is the food situation on Cardassia?” he asked, in a casual tone, as he ran his scanner up and down Garak’s body.  
  
“Don’t tell me _you’re_ about to lecture me on not eating well.”  
  
Julian looked up. Garak was not smiling, but there was a twinkle in his eye.  
  
“The food situation is one of the issues our government tackled directly,” Garak said at length. “It’s not under control yet, but at least we’ve remedied the direct post-war situation where provisions only went to a select few.”  
  
Julian nodded. He’d heard about the massive-scale corruption and greed that had spread across the planet directly after the war.  
  
“However, I cannot promise you that I will have the occasion to eat fruit every day.” This time, Garak did smile, and Julian, flustered, turned his back to study the console.  
  
“Anyway, apart from that, you’re in good health,” he said.  
  
“I am glad to hear it.” Garak paused. “Unfortunately I do not have the occasion to visit a doctor regularly.”  
  
“A pity.” Julian smiled back over his shoulder. “Doctors are good for you.” Ouch. Blatant flirting was surely not what Cardassians did. Nor had their relationship ever really been like that. But many things had changed since the war – and indeed, in the last two months.  
  
However, Garak smiled back ever so slightly, saying, “Yes, so I remember,” so Julian supposed he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself.  
  


* * *

 


	16. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 5

It so happened that when Ghalil made his move, the conference room contained not only the Cardassian delegation, the Bajoran First Minister and the Federation President, but also all of Deep Space Nine’s commanding officers.  
  
Ghalil, having stormed the room with a dozen men and having somehow cut the entire station power, had the element of surprise on his side and had soon overpowered them, his men occupying strategic positions in the room and keeping them all well in check.  
  
The former Gul prowled the room like a panther, his eyes darting everywhere at once, a malicious grin tugging at the side of his mouth.  
  
“So this is Terok Nor,” he purred. “The Cardassian station stolen from us by Federation and Bajoran hands.”  
  
Nobody spoke.  
  
“No denials, then,” Ghalil sneered. “Good. Nobody would believe you anyway.”  
  
Julian shot a quick look at Garak, being directly held at gunpoint by a man he had seen back on Cardassia just before he’d left. What was his name? Bojun – and last time he’d definitely been helping Garak. It was no surprise that the latter was staring at him in disgust.  
  
“Isn’t it funny,” Ghalil continued, still prowling, still staring at each and every one as he passed them, “that nobody ever questioned the lawfulness of this station going to the Federation? It’s almost as though the quadrant _conspired_ against all of Cardassia!”  
  
He sounds like a character in a play speaking to the audience, Julian thought, and the mad thought crossed his mind that Garak was making him watch a Cardassian holoplay.  
  
“Ghalil,” began Garak, and the man whirled around. “You have nothing to gain from this. Why don’t you let the Federation and Bajoran citizens go and come back to Prime with us? We can discuss everything there.”  
  
Ghalil stared at him.  
  
“I’d forgotten your persuasive tone,” he said at length. “But it won’t work this time.” Then, suddenly, he lashed out and hit Garak right across the face with his flat hand.  
  
Julian knew he’d made an involuntary movement when Ghalil spun around and stared at him.  
  
“Here’s one who wants to come to your rescue, Garak,” he said, and with a few leaps he had crossed the room and come to stand inches away from Bashir. “Looks like he cares about you. That must be a great nuisance.”  
  
He grabbed Julian, suddenly, and spun him around so he had him in a stranglehold, facing Garak. “Shall I break his neck for you?”  
  
Garak, his cheek still pink from where Ghalil had hit him, looked at them appraisingly, seemingly untouched.  
  
Julian could hear Ghalil muttering very quietly to himself. He was becoming more and more convinced that the man was insane.  
  
“ _Leader_ Zoran!” the former Gul exclaimed, suddenly letting Julian go and striding towards her. “I wonder how many people know about your uncle’s actions during the war?”  
  
She looked back at him evenly.  
  
“More than you would think,” she responded. “But I am not my uncle.”  
  
“What!” Ghalil stared at her in mock horror and chuckled. “Are you saying that we are not bound to the fate of our family? That we are wholly unconnected?”  
  
A clever move, Julian had to admit it. It did go against basic Cardassian etiquette to question or distance oneself from one’s family. Was there an elegant way out of this for her?  
  
At any rate, she was looking increasingly pale.  
  
“Are you saying,” Ghalil continued, “that when Peltor Zoran fired on that Cardassian ship in the last battle of the Dominion war after the rest of our people had turned against the Dominion, and killed thirty-seven – _thirty-seven_ – of our men and women, he did so without any consequences to his family, without any repercussions on his _niece_?”  
  
Zoran swallowed visibly, but kept her gaze fixed on Ghalil. Finally she said, her hands shaking but her voice steady, “The brightest constellation has a dark moon.”  
  
Julian saw Garak smiling slightly and the Bajorans looking surprised.  
  
Ghalil snorted and applauded. “Hear, hear! The woman knows our old sayings!”  
  
“We have the same one,” ventured the Bajoran First Minister. “And I agree. If Leader Zoran wants to establish a new Cardassia that is loyal to its own citizens but also open towards other worlds, she’s nothing like her uncle.”  
  
“Bajorans,” hissed Ghalil. “As if Cardassians needed _your_ opinion.”  
  
“Oh, but we do,” Zoran smiled. Julian was dismayed to see that she was clearly close to fainting, and he edged nearer to her ever so slightly while Ghalil’s back was turned. “If our Bajoran cousins are willing to help us at this time, we will never forget it. And by the way, Ghalil,” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you talk of Peltor Zoran as though he was nothing but a traitor to you, when I know perfectly well that you two were good friends from the Obsidian Order. So please let us retain some perspective here.”  
  
Ghalil bared his teeth at her, and Julian knew that the man was rapidly losing any last vestige of his sanity.  
  
“How dare you talk to me of Peltor,” he whispered. “You, who betrayed him… you, who had my best man removed –”  
  
“Let us not play games, Ghalil,” Zoran said, as patiently as though she were talking to a child. “I did not have your man Topal removed after you sent him to kill me and Garak. Topal was more honourable than you will ever be. He killed himself when he realized he had failed you.”  
  
“Liar!” Ghalil shouted, and Julian, knowing that he was seconds away from shooting Zoran down, instinctively moved forward to protect her.  
  
Ghalil whirled around to him. “ _You_ ,” he said sharply and pointed his phaser directly at his heart. “You have meddled in Cardassian affairs quite enough. Your time is up, human doctor.”  
  
Julian felt Zoran swaying dangerously behind him.  
  
Then Garak spoke, softly.  
  
“Perhaps you may consider letting him go.”  
  
Ghalil stared at him.  
  
“We are the ones you want,” said Garak, “not some insignificant Starfleet personnel. If you will let this man go, I will come with you and we can discuss everything between Cardassians.”  
  
Ghalil let out a booming laugh. “A Cardassian, offering himself up for a Human!” Then his face contorted into what looked like undiluted loathing. “You are a disgrace to us, Garak.” And he fired the phaser that had still been pointed at Julian.  


* * *

 


	17. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 6

Almost as though in slow motion, Garak saw Bashir go down, and several things happened at once.  
  
Kira and Sisko knocked down the men nearest to them, Harila shot Ghalil, and Zoran fainted.  
  
After a skirmish of another few moments during which Zoran’s people and the Federation personnel incapacitated Ghalil’s men and Garak distinctly heard Bojun’s jaw break beneath his fist, order was restored, and Ghalil’s men were contained.  
  
“We need to get him to the infirmary,” Ezri said, kneeling over Bashir. She had reached him first – so Garak sat by Zoran, taking her pulse.  
  
“Her, too.”  
  
Kira was tapping away furiously on a console. “Trying to get the transporters back online.”  
  
Garak tried not to panic as he felt Zoran’s pulse grow weaker and saw Bashir go paler.  
  
“There!” Kira exclaimed, and called for two nurses who were promptly transported into the conference room.  
  
As Sisko and Commander Forster marched Ghalil and his men from the room, and the nurses descended on both injured people, Garak and Ezri were forced back away from them.  
  
There was a tense moment of silence as the nurses administered emergency treatment and Garak and Ezri stood side by side, waiting.  
  
“Thank you for trying to save him,” she finally said in a quiet voice.  
  
He avoided her gaze as she looked up at him. “It didn’t work, anyway.”  
  
“He’s strong,” she said, confidently, and right on cue, Bashir’s heart rate increased and he opened his eyes.  
  
Garak and Ezri both rushed forward just as Harila approached the nurse attending Zoran. “How is she?”  
  
More than anything else, it was in that moment – when he realized that he had completely forgotten about Leader Zoran – that Garak knew how much Julian Bashir meant to him.  
  
“Not well,” said the nurse in a clipped voice. “What happened? Was she shot?”  
  
“I don’t think so,” said Harila, seeking confirmation from Garak, who shook his head, still dumbstruck.  
  
Ezri, meanwhile, was trying to keep Bashir down. “Julian, don’t try to speak,” she was saying.  
  
“Please, Ezri,” Bashir half-mouthed. “Need adrenalin… Zoran… I can help…”  
  
“If he knows what’s wrong with her,” said Harila, “maybe we should –”  
  
“A shot of adrenalin could kill him right now,” warned the head nurse. “Even him.”  
  
“Help me up then,” Bashir groaned. Ezri and Garak briefly looked at each other, then helped him to sit up. As Garak’s eyes met Bashir’s, a shiver ran down his spine.  
  
“PADD,” Bashir gasped, and began to write a chemical formula on the PADD that was handed to him.  
  
“Magrodel hypofunction,” he said to the nurse in no more than a whisper, handing her the PADD, “give her 20 milligrams of this and she’ll be fine,” and he slumped back into Ezri’s and Garak’s arms, unconscious.  
  
Garak thought he had better sit down.  
  


* * *

 


	18. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 7

“‘The brightest constellation has a dark moon’?”  
  
“An old Bajoran _and_ Cardassian saying, but it predates the Occupation. So I guess that just shows how closely they are linked.”  
  
They were talking in low tones in the infirmary, Ezri in the doctor’s chair, Sisko on one of the patient beds. Garak had just left them to organize the Cardassian delegation’s return, after having assured himself that both patients were recovering.  
  
“Looks like Zoran scored a point with the Bajorans too, then.”  
  
“Yup.” Ben had his eyes closed. She wondered whether he was now in permanent contact with the Prophets. Or maybe he was just tired.  
  
“Why do you think Ghalil recorded the whole thing?” she asked, looking towards the room where Julian and Zoran were recuperating.  
  
“Dunno.” Ben shrugged. “He was probably hoping to unmask a Cardassian-Federation conspiracy.”  
  
“Kind of backfired, didn’t it.”  
  
The video had by now leaked to both Cardassia and Bajor, and it looked like the general public was more inclined to be on the new Cardassian government’s (and the Federation’s) side.  
  
“So Bajor is a vital part of Cardassia’s rebuilding,” Ezri said.  
  
“Yes. There’ll be a lot of – I mean, I’ll have to initiate a lot of meetings, an exchange between their leaders and their people. If all goes well, in fifty years’ time we’ll have created a strong friendship between their peoples.”  
  
“I’ve got to say it looks unlikely right now.”  
  
Ben shrugged. “Time alone will tell how it will all play out. The portal will help, though. When the Bajorans see that the Prophets created such a close link between their worlds…”  
  
“They did, then?”  
  
“Well, I _think_ so. They weren’t exactly forthcoming with information. It was a lot of guesswork most of the time.” He opened his eyes and winked at her.  
  
She smiled. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to become an omniscient being just yet. Unbearable to imagine how smug you’d get.”  
  
He grinned. Then – “Ezri,” he said slowly. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, because it’s dangerous to meddle in these things. But I care about you, old man. And I think you should know that when I was with the Prophets I saw…” He trailed off.  
  
She swallowed, studying the console. “Are we talking about that bit of the video that the Cardassian public is obsessing over as we speak?”  
  
“Let’s just say I was pretty surprised to see that Julian was still on the station when I arrived.”  
  
Ezri let out a slow breath, turning her swivelchair towards Ben and away from the door.  
  
“I know,” she said simply.  
  
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”  
  
_It’s a little too late for that._ “I’ll be okay.” She shrugged. “Let’s just say I _wasn’t_ very surprised at… well, all of it.” She made an all-encompassing gesture. “Julian going through the portal to save Garak’s life, Garak speaking up for Julian to save _his_ … in a way I was kind of expecting this to happen. Let’s just hope Cardassia doesn’t have a problem with the Leader’s First Minister being in love with a Human.”  
  
Ben seemed to be looking at her meaningfully, and she turned around.  
  
Julian stood in the doorway, staring at her.  
  


* * *

  
  



	19. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 8

The _Kertan_ ’s engineer had told him they needed another half hour to get ready. Garak was making good use of this time in the Leader’s office, sending out coded messages to all their important liaisons to prepare their return as best as possible and – more importantly – anticipate any further trouble caused by Ghalil’s group.  
  
In short: He was doing everything he could to stop himself from getting a drink.  
  
It was ridiculous. He, who had been famed in the Order for his discipline, could now not master this. And it didn’t matter that he had barely touched a drink in the last two months. He had been so busy constructing a new Cardassia at Zoran’s side, righting the wrongs of their predecessors, making sure everyone was provided for… But it only meant he had briefly, mercifully, forgotten to provide for his debilitating little addiction.  
  
But now, he could not stop the dark thoughts from intruding into his mind, and he could barely stop himself from self-medicating.  
  
It wasn’t so much finding out that two of the founding members of his original group had been passing on information to third parties – Harila, to Starfleet, and Bojun, to Ghalil (which was of course worse). He could handle treason, and he might even forgive Harila for keeping this from him.  
  
It was that confounded video that worried him.  
  
He had watched it three times now, and the look on his own face at the end of it, so clearly visible now to everyone on Cardassia as the video was passed from hand to hand, made him squirm.  
  
Three questions kept turning around in his mind.  
  
How could he have permitted himself to show such weakness? What lay in store for Cardassia’s stability now? And what lay in store for _him_ if he never saw Julian Bashir again?  
  


* * *

  
Julian walked quietly up and down the infirmary room.  
  
Surely Ezri couldn’t be right. And yet…  
  
“Shouldn’t you be lying down, Doctor?”  
  
He turned to see Zoran sitting up, still looking pale, but better than this time yesterday. “I seem to remember you being shot at.” A little smile played around her lips.  
  
Julian shrugged. “I’m okay. I, er, heal quickly.”  
  
“Ah yes, the genetic modifications.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and she added, “I read up on you after we last saw each other. Couldn’t quite figure out whether your were a doctor or a secret service man.”  
  
Julian tried not to feel pleased. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“A little faint.” She frowned. “Am I right in assuming that I collapsed in front of the entire delegation?”  
  
Julian smiled. “Your magrodel hypofunction is hardly anything to be ashamed of.”  
  
She tutted. “That is the Federation viewpoint, perhaps. I am not so sure the Cardassians would see it the same way.”  
  
“I don’t think they realize it was that,” said Julian, and explained about the recording. Looking alarmed at first, Zoran appeared mollified when he explained that the general public seemed to assume that her fainting had somehow been Ghalil’s fault.  
  
Not that he’d been reading up about the public reaction obsessively ever since he’d been up, or anything.  
  
He further explained that Ghalil had been taken into custody by Federation officials. He knew from the expression on her face that she wanted to ask about something else but couldn’t quite make up her mind to.  
  
“There’s also a lot of talk about what Garak said at one point,” he helped her out.  
  
“Ah.” She nodded, studying him with interest.  
  
“I… er…” He broke off, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Zoran, do you think it’s going to damage his standing with the Cardassians?”  
  
She took a long time to reply, and he knew that she’d understood the question behind that question.  
  
“It’s hard to tell,” she said, finally.  
  
“Is that Diplomatic Cardassian for ‘probably’?”  
  
She smiled. “No. It is genuinely hard to tell whether they will think him weak or whether we have already reached a point in our society where a Cardassian can legitimately offer his life for a human’s.”  
  
Julian swallowed. “Thank you for being honest with me.”  
  
“I like you,” she said, simply.  
  
He wasn’t sure that was enough.  
  


* * *

 


	20. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 9

The door chimed, and Garak felt a twinge of irritation at being interrupted.  
  
He took a moment to compose his features, then said, in his best Leader voice, “Enter.”  
  
With a furtive look behind him, Julian Bashir ducked in through the door.  
  
Garak stood, too astonished to keep his cool, and they stared at each other.  
  
“How did you get in here without an escort?”  
  
Bashir only shrugged slightly, and Garak had to smile. “Put your special talents to use, then?”  
  
“I didn’t want to cause a fuss.”  
  
There was a moment’s silence.  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” Garak said softly.  
  
Oh, those eyes, he thought. He had always appreciated their handsome shape and their expressiveness.  
  
“You’re leaving,” said Bashir.  
  
“Yes. We have to get back as quickly as possible. There is no telling what the next few days will bring on Cardassia.”  
  
Bashir nodded.  
  
“I think I may leave the Leader in your capable hands, however,” Garak continued. “By the way, if you would be so kind as to keep her… condition… to yourself.”  
  
The doctor nodded, looking slightly amused. “She asked me the same thing. Although I do wish to note that it’s nothing more than one little hormone that her body doesn’t produce enough of.”  
  
“I know.” Garak had to smile a little. “However, Cardassians are not yet likely to be one hundred percent tolerant of that.”  
  
Another moment of silence.  
  
“Speaking of which,” said Bashir, and Garak suddenly heard his heart pounding in his throat.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
They looked at each other for a moment.  
  
“I should let you go now,” Bashir said.  
  
This was not what Garak had expected from him at all.  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
Bashir sighed. “I’ve been reading up on the public reaction, and, well, it doesn’t look good. However I may… come to regret it in the future, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize Cardassia’s stability. So I should let you go.”  
  
He raised his hand, and Garak automatically put his palm against the doctor’s, too stunned to speak.  
  
“Goodbye, Garak.”  
  


* * *

 


	21. Part III - Getting the hang of sacrifice. 10

“Hey, Teddy,” Ben cooed, standing at the airlock. “Hey, little man. Look at you.” He turned to Kasidy, whom he was trying to hold on to at the same time. “Oh, honey. Nothing the Prophets could have shown me came anywhere close to this little miracle.”  
  
“You better remember that line when you start telling me about all the wonders they did show you,” she teased good-naturedly and kissed him for what felt like the thousandth, and yet the first, time.  
  
Jake was hovering in the background, evidently trying not to be in the way, and Ben handed Ted back to Kasidy to include his eldest son in the group hug.  
  
“Come on, Siskos,” he smiled.  
  
“Hey, what’s Garak still doing on the station?” muttered Jake, ever the journalist. They watched as Garak, who had just hurried out of another airlock, disappeared behind a corner.  
  
“I would have thought he’d go back to Cardassia as soon as possible after this whole affair,” Jake mused.  
  
“I kept trying to explain it to the Prophets,” Ben smiled. “These things take as long as they take.”  
  


* * *

  
The door chimed, and Julian closed his eyes briefly, preparing himself for what could only be a very difficult conversation with Ezri.  
  
“Come in,” he said, turning to the door and trying not to grimace.  
  
It was Garak.  
  
Julian stared for a moment as the door slid shut behind his Cardassian friend.  
  
“I thought you were leaving.”  
  
“I am,” said Garak. “For now.”  
  
As Julian wondered whether Garak had come with another favour to ask concerning Zoran, the Cardassian passed a distracted hand through his hair and, all of a sudden, didn’t look unreadable at all anymore.  
  
“I didn’t think making you read all those Cardassian novels would pay off,” he said at length, smiling.  
  
Julian only raised his eyebrows at him.  
  
“Sacrifice, Julian”, Garak said. “One of the most romantic concepts of our classic literature, and you’ve really got the hang of it now.”  
  
Slowly, but surely, Julian felt a smile spreading across his face.  
  
Garak approached and took both his hands in his. “I, for my part, seem to have been corrupted by your Earth literature.”  
  
“You didn’t like the ending?” murmured Julian, warmth spreading through him at their lingering touch, and he let go of one of Garak’s hands to slowly slide his hand up the other man’s arm.  
  
“Oh, I liked it,” Garak said softly as his free hand came to rest on Julian’s back. “But I understand what you mean by ‘unfulfilling’, now.”  
  
“Should have known you needed a practical example,” Julian grinned, and Garak drew him gently closer and kissed him.  
  


* * *

 


	22. Epilogue - Even the Prophets understand love

_I’m surprised you haven’t asked me why Julian went through that portal in the first place. Isn’t that an instance of irrational human behaviour that needs explaining?_  
  
_You are always so intent on asking_ why _._  
  
Ben grins, half in this world as he rocks Teddy to sleep, half in hers. Sarah is now occasionally cheeky with him. It’s a nice change from the strained exchanges he still sometimes has with the others of her kind.  
  
_Right, so you’re saying he went through because he went through, because it is what happens. I get it._  
  
_As for what motivates him – we may not always understand your linear existence, but we do understand love, my son._  
  
Ben smiles. _Yes. You do, don’t you._  
  
_We understand love as we feel it for you, and for the people you call Bajorans, and for our other children who do not realize yet that they are also our family._  
  
_Right. It would probably be a good idea to take that slowly. I’m not sure the Cardassians will be very open – yet – to any approach made towards them by you._  
  
_We will do as you advise, my son. In time, they will come to us._  
  
_If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d embraced linear time._  
  
_I only try to adapt to you so that we may understand each other._  
  
Ben grins again. Then – _Sarah, is he alright? Julian? I haven’t heard from him ever since he took over that Starfleet outpost on Cardassia V._  
  
_Would you like to see him in your point in linear time? Garak is visiting him –_  
  
_Whoa! – Right. Definitely okay then._  
  
_Is something the matter?_  
  
_Mother, we really need to talk about privacy._

 

* * *

  **The End**

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
